He nods, his expression steady. “Okay. After dinner, we’ll talk. All of us, if you’re ready. But first, let’s get you into that bath. It’ll help you relax a bit.”
And for the first time since this nightmare started, I let myself hope again.
After a bath that could rival any luxury spa in the city, I feel like I can finally breathe again—just a little.
Elijah washed my hair with those strong, gentle hands of his, massaging my scalp like he was trying to pull the trauma out strand by strand. He used the same shampoo and conditioner I always use—same brand, same scent—and even applied a deep-conditioning mask. I’m not sure if he asked Mia to bring them or if she somehow knew exactly what I’d want, but the familiar scent grounds me. It reminds me that I’m still me.
He took his time, never rushing, never pushing. When it came time to wash the rest of me, he did it with a reverence I wasn’t ready for. His touch was soft, deliberate—more comforting than cleansing—and it broke me. I started crying again, quietly at first, but then harder, and he just held me, arms wrapped around me as the warm water turned cool.
Not once did he seem frustrated or impatient. He didn’t try to stop my tears. He just stayed with me until I was ready.
When the water got too cold, he wrapped me in a huge, impossibly soft towel and carried me back to bed. Fresh clothes were waiting. I looked at them, confused.
“I asked Mia to bring your favorite things,” Elijah said softly. “And Asher brought over some of my stuff too… so if you want to wear one of my shirts, like always, they’re right there.”
Tears prick my eyes again—not from sadness this time, but because of how deeply he knows me.
“Thank you, I’d like—” My voice falters, and I hate that I can’t finish the sentence.
He leans in closer, eyes searching mine. “Do you want one of my shirts? One that smells like me?”
I nod.
That’s all he needs. He hands me one, and in that moment, I feel like I might actually be okay again someday.
Once we’re both dressed, Elijah sits me gently in front of the mirror. I start my nighttime skincare routine while he stands behind me, quietly combing through my damp hair with the kind of care that makes my chest ache. When he begins to braid it, I can't help but smile.
This man… this man knows how to care for a woman.
I’ve seen his own routine before—his bathroom counter is practically overflowing with products, half of which I didn’t even know existed until I met him. To say Elijah takes care of himself is an understatement.
“Who taught you how to braid?” I ask, watching his hands move gently through my hair.
“When I started growing mine out, my mom sat me down and taught me how to take care of it properly. Said if I wanted to wear it long, I had to respect it.”
There’s nostalgia in his voice, and I feel it settle in my chest.
“Do you miss her?”
He pauses for just a second, then answers quietly, “Every day, babe… every day.”
He finishes the braid with a soft hair tie and kisses the top of my head. “You ready?”
I glance at my reflection. My eyes still look a little puffy, but there’s a steadiness returning to them. I take a deep breath, stand up, and nod. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Elijah takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles.
“If at any point it feels like too much, just say the word and we stop. Okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” I whisper.
He doesn’t let go of my hand. “Ava… I want you to know something. I love you. I’m so damn glad we found you when we did. And… I know we still need to talk about the tracker.”
His eyes drop to my wrist, and instinctively, I raise my hand to look at the bracelet still fastened there. With my free hand, I trace the tiny metal dahlia that holds the hidden device. It should feel invasive—but it doesn’t. Not now. It feels like protection. Like a promise.
“Yeah… we’ll talk about it. But honestly?” I meet his gaze, steady and sincere. “As crazy as it sounds… I’m glad you did it. If it weren’t for this little flower, I don’t know if I’d be here right now. You found me because of it. You saved me.”
“Always, baby girl,” he says, pulling me gently into his arms. “Always.”
